Fifteen for the TARDIS
by ox-dancindarlin-xo
Summary: Fifteen words. Fifteen drabbles. One hundred words each. All set in the TARDIS. And LOTS of River/Eleven. Rated T for implied things, and because I'm paranoid.


**Disclaimer: ****All rights and characters belong to the BBC and Steven Moffat. Nothing is mine but the creativity and storyline.**

_**A/N: Fifteen words. Fifteen drabbles. One hundred words each. And LOTS of River/Eleven.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Cats<strong>_**  
><strong>_River had always wanted cats. You know, something _other_ than the Doctor to snuggle up to. But after his latest regeneration they soon found that he had... allergies.

She didn't mind, though; not having a cat. It made a better excuse to cuddle the Doctor when she needed to, and whenever 'important' things happened ("I have to save the world from another alien, River, can't we snuggle another time?") she could always use the excuse of, "But I don't have a cat..."

Although she didn't have a cat, it sure seemed like it – the way he purred in her arms. 

**Shenanigans  
><strong>The Doctor glowered at her from under his shaven brow, trying his very best to look menacing. Any other time it maybe would have worked, but if he hadn't handcuffed to the TARDIS controls wearing nothing but a bow-tie River probably wouldn't have grinned at him the way she was now. And even the Doctor knew he wasn't as angry as he was perceiving to be. Not when she was parading around infront of him; wearing nothing but a Fez.

"Oh, Sweetie. What _am_ I going to do with you?" Now, what other shenanigans could they _possibly_get up to? 

**Smash  
><strong>"You know nothing about me!" River yelled, her unmanageable hair casting an ironic halo around her head as she threw the book at him, all the delicate pages tearing out and fluttering to the floor. She was failing to stop her tears – the Doctor had never seen her cry before.

It startled him just as much as it infuriated him; it confirmed what she had screamed at him.

"And whose fault is that?" He snapped, glaring at the diary entries at his feet.

River sighed. "Spoilers." And at that one word, the Doctor's hearts smashed into a million tiny pieces.

**Extract  
><strong>His vision blurred, his speech slurred, and he kept stumbling. It had been going on for at least half an hour until River found him. Strolling in from the library (dripping wet; she forgot about the swimming pool), she noticed him lying on the floor, grinning at the ceiling.

He was holding her hallucinogenic lipstick. He must have taken an extract and inhaled it by accident...

She walked over to him, and he gazed at her in awe. "River?" He asked quietly, "Why are you covered in chocolate?" She just smiled at him, kindly.

"Want to lick it off me?" 

**Epiphany  
><strong>The Doctor had never had an epiphany. Ideas, yes – _brilliant_ ideas. And realisations; realisations that hit hard. But never a realisation so hard-hitting that it's classed as an epiphany.

Until _she_ came – magnificent, _annoying_ – River Song came into his life. Came crashing into his life, brilliant and mysterious at the same time, knowing everything about him...

And then she died. On their first meeting... she died.

Then it crashed over him; his epiphany – just as devastating as it was frightening. If she died on the first day he met her... did he die on the first day she met him?**  
><strong>

**Revelation  
><strong>Revelations aren't hard to come by. The Doctor seemed to have one every day. Whether it was shocking, unimportant, or just _impossible_, there would always be one.

The word '_impossible_' had never really been in his vocabulary. During his years he'd found that nothing was _ever _impossible.

'Impossible' is just a word for cowards who are too afraid to have excitement in their lives, following life by the same routine.

If there's one realisation the Doctor found, was that River Song is as impossible as it can get – but she is the opposite of everything he thought 'impossible' stood for.

**Fascism  
><strong>'_Fascism_'. What did that word mean? River had never really known; never really _wanted _to know. It seemed like such a cruel word, such a controlling, over-powerful word that didn't belong in her care-free world. The world in which she can just step in and out of jail and into her Doctor's arms. Her Doctor.

She never thought he could ever be a Fascist.

The Doctor has his philosophies, and he has his principles. Most of them he shares with her, and they discuss them in hushed Gallifreyan tongue until early light.

No. He wasn't fascist. He never would be.**  
><strong>

**Shiny  
><strong>The Doctor liked shiny things.

The very simplest of statements, so child-like in essence and too dazzling to think about. It was adorable to watch as he trotted about the TARDIS, admiring bits of metal, grinning at his reflection and then stroking the TARDIS panel favourably.

He looked so vulnerable – but it was his childish moments like this that made him River's favourite. Because he _needed _her to look after him; he _needed _that dependence.

She didn't even need to know if he loved the TARDIS more than he loved her. She already knew the answer. And that was fine.

**Weeping Angels  
><strong>When River cried, the Doctor never felt the need to comfort her. He never felt the need to, because she hardly ever cried. And she hardly ever cried because she was strong. Why would he need to comfort a strong woman?

He also never comforted her, because he was scared it was over something he hadn't done yet.

But this time was different. This time he felt it was _much_ worse. This wasn't just crying – this was weeping; mourning – hysterical sobs that wracked her body. So he wrapped his arms around his Weeping Angel and sung to her in Gallifreyan.**  
><strong>

**Buttons  
><strong>River was an expert at undoing buttons.

With a single flick of her finger or a turn of her palm, all of the buttons on the Doctor's shirt could be undone without him even registering her touch. The only way he would realise is if a cold breeze suddenly hit his chest, or by the cheeky glint in her eye as she grinned up at him.

But he knew that whenever River undid his buttons there was no getting away from her. And if he ever tried the handcuffs would come out. Sometimes he would deliberately try and get away...

**Bowtie  
><strong>"Sweetie, loose the bowtie." River pleaded, her mouth curving into a smile.

"No," the Doctor said, reaching up to fiddle with the object in question, "Bowties are cool." River just laughed, and he grinned, coming to stand by her side as she gazed fondly down at the diary she held in her hand.

He asked, quietly, "What are you thinking about?"

River sighed. "Spoilers."

The Doctor exhaled sharply through his nose, irritated. "I wish I'd never made up those stupid rules."

She smiled. "Maybe we should add another rule: _Always let me dress you_."

The Doctor smirked. "Or _un_dress me."

**Umbrellas**  
>Umbrellas protect you from the rain; keep you dry. They shield you from the wind; keeping you warm. They shelter you from the sun; to keep you cool.<p>

But they are not always reliable.

In the rain, they can be useless; getting you wet. In the wind, they can turn inside-out and break; making you cold. And in the summer they can be filled with holes and let the sun in; defeating its purpose.

Umbrellas are at hand when you need them, whether it's in good or bad weather. But they aren't really reliable.

River Song was the Doctor's umbrella.

**Farewell  
><strong>'_Goodbye_' is so hard to say.

Such a simple word; two syllables and seven letters. But with so many meanings. Until tomorrow; next week; next month; next year; next millennium?

Goodbye indicates a departure, a separation, an exit. It seems like such a harsh word, with hidden meanings.

How can a bye ever be good when it means walking away from the Doctor?

River always avoided saying goodbye to the Doctor. Because she knows once you say 'goodbye' – then he is gone forever.

And just because her name is River Song will never change that.

'_Farewell_' is so much easier.

**Mirror  
><strong>The Doctor never told River she was gorgeous.

And that was okay.

The Doctor never told River she was pretty.

And that was okay.

The Doctor never told River she was attractive.

And that was okay.

It was okay because when he finally did, she was wearing a long, white dress and a lacy white veil to hide her smiling face, with her blonde curls all astray and a ring on her finger.

It was okay because when he finally did, he showed her a mirror, leant in to kiss her, and told her she was beautiful in flawless Gallifreyan.**  
><strong>

**Muerto  
><strong>"Te amo." River said softly, grinning as she tried to teach the Doctor Spanish. It was amusing that the most intelligent man in the history of the galaxy knew every other language known to every life form – he didn't know Spanish.

The Doctor nodded once, grinning back, and the River knew that he had no idea what she had said.

"Um..." She continued, gnawing her lip in thought, "...Pajaritas no son frescos, cariño."

He laughed again, and it definitely confirmed that he didn't understand.

But his face darkened as she spoke up again, "Muerto."

Even the Doctor knew what that meant.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Okay, I know Google Translate botches some things up sometimes, so I'm gonna put what I REALLY typed in English for River to say, that when I made it from Spanish to English, Google messed up.**_

'_**Te amo' – I love you.**_

'_**Pajaritas no son frescos, cari**__**ñ**__**o' – Bowties are not cool, sweetie (When typed back into Google Translate, it says 'Bow ties are not fresh, baby', which is what I do NOT want River to say).**_

_**And 'Muerto' – Death.**_

_**Thankyou to my friend Grace who gave me the fifteen prompts to start these 100-word-stories off! ^_^ Thankyou, Gracie!**_

_**I hope you enjoyed this River/Doctor fluffiness!**_

_**Kelly xxx**_


End file.
